


A Better Offer

by PuppetMaster55



Category: Naruto
Genre: fixing canon issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5852176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppetMaster55/pseuds/PuppetMaster55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different conversation leading to the same conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Offer

**Author's Note:**

> So I was laying in bed when inspiration struck hard. Suddenly Madara was monologing in my head, a sort of history lesson, and it morphed into a much better, more well-thought offer of his goals to Obito.

“The concept of a village is, inherently, flawed.” Madara groaned as he sat upon his wood throne. Obito squinted through the darkness to see the old man. “As a child, Hashirama and I shared a dream: of a place where children like us, like you, would neither see nor partake in war. We believed, perhaps naively, that peace would happen if only the different clans were capable of understanding one another.

“I gave up this dream, but Hashirama didn't. For years, he sought a means for the clans to join together. He desired to see a village created, where all the clans could live in peace, where the children could be children, growing up safe and away from danger.” Madara sighed. “To understand my perspective, you must know that when I was born, I had five brothers. When I was twenty-eight, it was just me and one younger brother.”

“Izuna,” Obito supplied, memories of clan history surfacing. “But didn't he–”

“Die?” Madara supplied, voice bitter and cold. “Of course. Tobirama killed him. I then took Izuna's eyes, and adopted his will, for a time. Peace with Senju did not seem possible. Twice, after that, I battled with Hashirama. The first, I lost. In the wake of that loss, we found peace. Senju and Uchiha, the two great rivals, were rivals no more. Our joining prompted dozens of other clans to join us, coming together into the village we had dreamed of. The rest of the nations saw the peace that came from a village, and soon villages – hidden villages, mind you – appeared all across the Elemental Nations.

“But Daimyo are vain, and disliked having multiple villages. What if someone paid one village to destroy another? To destroy all other villages, so there would be no more rivals? In response, the Daimyo tried to have all the hidden villages destroyed, and for ten long years, battle waged. The children were safe, yes, and by the end of it the current system of one village to a land was created, but I could already see the future.” Madara wheezed, leaning on his scythe. “The First Great Shinobi World War. It was coming. The adults would do battle, and when they were dead the children would be sent out in their place. Peace was going to be short-lived, as the war restarted.

“Nagachika. Takizawa. Kirishima. These are but some of the clans that died out in the First War. You see, with the hidden villages offering peace, the clans stopped having so many children. I was one of the youngest of five, but you? How many siblings do you have?”

Obito swallowed, his throat feeling thick. “None.”

Madara nodded. “The larger clans could afford to send all their adults into battle. The smaller clans realized far too late of their doom. It did not help that the Senju, and Tobirama in particular, did not trust the Uchiha. Our clan was kept away from the battle, held back so we would not be prompted to betray our comrades. That is why, to this day, the Uchiha clan remains one of the largest in all of Konoha. Perhaps even all of the Elemental Nations.

“Resentment among the Shinobi began to build. I could see it still, could see the cycle of war adjusting into a bigger scale. The Uchiha were going to become prisoners, the police force Tobirama created their way of being watched over by the Senju.” Madara sighed. “I tried to warn my kin of this, but they did not believe me. They called me a warmonger, accused me of being the very thing Tobirama warned of. Hashirama could not see as I could, and so I decided to act upon it.

“Two forces, a light and a dark, forever in opposition. If Hashirama was to be that force of light, then I would have no choice but to be that force of darkness. I tried, and I failed. Because I was short-sighted. I could see the future, but not how to change it.” Madara shuddered, clenching his fingers on the scythe blade. “And what was the future? The First War, which ended with the death of dozens of clans, the expansion of the village to all refugees – those that remained and surrendered of the copycat villages – and the creation of the Kunoichi.”

“Kunoichi didn't exist before the First War?” Obito asked, his face pulled into a frown. “Are you sure, old man?”

“It is possible they existed during what is now called the Warring Clans Era, but they were not as prolific as their male counterparts. Women, especially among the clans, were – and are still – considered more important in keeping the clan line going. Their role is to marry and produce children.” Madara nodded to himself. “Kunoichi, much like the current concept of war, are recent creations. They took part in the First War, sneaking into enemy lands and killing everyone in sight. Kunoichi were created out of a desire to survive, first and foremost.

“But I am getting off topic. The First War ended when there were no more adults to battle, and no one was willing to send the children off to war. The Second War, over a decade later, featured those very same children, out to avenge their parents, their families. Then, and now, younger and younger Shinobi joined the battle. Children out to battle alongside their parents, ready to avenge their losses immediately. It was an entire generation bred to the children of the previous war, growing up listening to their parents talk of going into the battlefield to avenge _their_ lost parents. 

“And now, with the Third War, the cycle continues. These conflicts are the same as the Second War, and the First War. In another twenty years there will be another war, another generation. Nothing changed, but the illusion of peace.” Madara inhaled, long and slow. “And if peace is an illusion, then who shall cast such an illusion to last for the rest of time?” He gestured at the giant plant behind him, and the statue sitting within the petals. “The Shinju held immense power, and with it, the ability to project illusions off of the moon. That statue you see, the Gedo Mazo, is the empty shell of the Shinju. It is also known as the Juubi.”

Obito's face scrunched up as he considered that revelation. Ten tails? Was that really true?

“The Juubi's power was split into nine pieces, into what we call the Biju, and when it is reformed, the Shinju will be reborn. The flower atop it will bloom, and the center will be reflected upon the moon, shining down upon all the world.” Madara turned his red gaze onto Obito, who shivered at the determination held by the old man. “But what I intend to do, is to become the Juubi Jinchuuriki. I can recreate the Shinju, and stand atop the flower. With that power, and my eyes returned to me, I will cast a Genjutsu upon the world – the Eternal Tsukiyomi. If peace is an illusion, then an illusion shall bring peace. The perfect world, free of suffering, of pain and loss. Do you wish to join me in my cause?”


End file.
